Shan hesitated. “How would Lhakpa be an outsider?”

“When he asked, he was so detached, I think a little ashamed in the asking. Sometimes he seemed to be more like one of those scholars who come and speak with me, like they don’t really believe in what I do but still have to record it all in their books.” She shrugged. “But his heart was pure, and he embraced the Buddha.”

“I don’t have time to argue, Shiva,” Shan pressed. “I am leaving for the valley at dawn, with or without that charm.”

There was pain in her eyes as the astrologer gazed at Shan. “That path could be your death, Shan.”

“Death already stalks that valley. I can’t stop more death unless I put myself in front of it. Am I better doing that with or without the charm?”

“You’re a fool.”

“You’re a witch.”

Shiva gave a cackling laugh that seemed to confirm his assertion. She gazed in silence, first at Shan then at the gerbil, who returned her gaze with his huge questioning eyes. “I don’t want you to die, Constable. That valley is full of old demons and new demons. The worse lies ahead.”

“Surely there must be room for a good demon. That’s what my friend Lokesh calls me. A good demon.”

“How is my favorite old rebel?”

“I wrote him to invite him to come when the passes clear of snow. Hopefully one of his young aides will join him. He is finally beginning to show signs of his age.”

“It would give me joy to see him again,” the astrologer said. “We always have so much to speak about.” Kapo climbed back onto her shoulder and she sighed, then lifted the half-completed horoscope off her easel. “Come back at dawn.”

Shan rose, then realized Shiva might be the only one in town who could answer another question that had been nagging him since his last trip to the secret archives. “The old books speak of patrols of black bulls leaving each spring for the Valley of the Gods.”

“The bulls were dob dobs,” she explained, using the nickname for the monastic police who served at the large monasteries of old Tibet. Once Yangkar had held the largest monastery in the region. “They wore black robes, and some would always spend the warm months keeping the sacred valley protected and helping the pilgrims who came from afar.”

Shan considered her words. “You make it sound like Yangkar was the protector of Gekho’s valley.”

Shiva solemnly nodded. “But we are down to only one dob dob. Should I find you a black robe?”

CHAPTER EIGHT